Jealousy
by TADTD
Summary: Sweeney Todd comes back from the market to find Mrs Lovett and Anthony in a... compromising position. But, why does he feel so angry about it? He's not jealous, is he?


Mrs Lovett woke up to find her ceiling staring back at her. She loved Sundays. The day were she could just relax, and do whatever the hell she liked. Well, she knew that she would have to take Mr Todd his breakfast- not that he ever ate it, but that could wait for at least another half hour. She smiled to herself, turning onto her side and drifting back off to sleep. She woke up for the second time that morning with a sigh. She rested in bed for a few minutes, thinking about the barber- as usual. Eventually she pulled the bed covers off of her, and dragged herself out of the warmth of the bed. It was very cold that particular morning, and the dull clouds outside made the sky look as if it was about to rain. The usual London weather, she thought to herself, tempted to stay in bed all day. But still, she went over to her dresser and got dressed. She didn't bother trying to look nice, she just sort of bunched her hair up messily from her face and wore one of her old work dresses. She had tried to look nice for Mr Todd before, buying a new dress and even bothering to put some makeup on, but he still barely noticed her. She trudged out of her bedroom and made her way to the pantry, were she put together the barber's breakfast. She just wished that he would forget about Lucy, Johanna and revenge, and spend more time on her instead of brooding and pacing in his shop. He barely even spoke to her, unless he really had to. But no, he knew that all he cared about was his past life. A life that he could never get back.

She began to walk up to his shop, where he would undoubtedly be pacing. She didn't bother knocking, she just walked in like she usually did, and not to her surprise he was pacing in front of his dark, gloomy window. She had to admit that she did feel sorry for him. Did he even know what happiness was anymore?

"Mr T," she called to him, but he only grunted in reply, not stopping his pacing, "I've brought you some breakfast, love," She didn't even know why he would want to look over London for that long, anyway. It wasn't very attractive, especially Fleet Street.

"I'm going out," he said, ignoring what she had just said, and not bothering to stop pacing and look at her, "I need to get some more shaving cream,"

"There's a few things that I need to get, I might as well come with you," she told him. She wouldn't be surprised if he said no, but she it didn't stop her from saying it. She wanted to spend as much time with him as possible, even if he was a mad serial killer.

"I'm going alone," he said sternly, not looking at her.

"Right. I'll put your breakfast on the vanity, then," she sighed, disappointed. She didn't want to argue with him, with the risk of one of his precious 'friends' being held to her throat. He wasn't even listening to her anymore, anyway. She sighed again and put the tray down, before going back to her own shop. She noticed that Toby was once again sprawled out across the floor again, cradling an empty bottle of gin loosely. As she had said many times before, the boy drinks like a sailor. She tugged the bottle away from him, and placed it back onto the table. She picked up the young boy, almost effortlessly, and gently carried him to his small room, before tucking him into his old worn-out bed. She then trailed back to the shop. It was most likely that Toby would wake up, soon. She sank down into a chair, thinking. What could she do today? She scanned the dusty shop. There wasn't anything she could do, apart from clean. She would have gone for a walk in the market, but she didn't really want to with the risk of bumping into Mr Todd. She would have to clean. She stood up again and went to her cupboard, where she collected a sweeping brush, a wash cloth and a bucket. She put the brush and cloth onto a table, and went to fill the bucket up with warm, soapy water. She decided to start by sweeping up the dirty floor, gathering the dust and dirt into a corner. She had nearly finished sweeping one side of the room, when Mr Todd walked in.

"I'm going," he mumbled, not looking at her.

"Alright then, dear," she said, rubbing her forehead.

The barber left the shop, and went to the market. She proceeded with her sweeping. She finished around ten minutes later, and put the sweeping brush onto the table. It was hard work cleaning, she thought to herself, as she picked up the washing cloth and the bucket. She went to one of the dirty, stained windows, where she plunged the cloth into the water, and squeezed it out so it was only damp. She started to wipe the window carefully, taking her time. A lot of dirt and muck came off of it. She muttered to herself about Sweeney. It took a long time before she had even almost finished. She heard a knock at the door and assumed that it was the barber, arriving back with his shaving cream.

"Come in," she called because the door was still unlocked, but to her disappointment it was Anthony.

"Is Mr Todd here? He asked her, entering. He sounded urgent.

"No, he's just nipped out to the market. I assume that he will be back soon though, if you want to wait," she smiled at him, warmly

"Yes thank you, ma'am," he nodded. Mrs Lovett went back to cleaning the window.

"Do you need any help?" He asked her politely, walking to where she was and leaning against the wall beside her.

"No thank you, I'm alright," she replied. Anthony waited quite impatiently, and the baker cleaned.

"What was is that you needed him for?"

"I just needed to ask him something,"

"Oh. Alright," she said, backing up a few steps to admire her handy work. But instead, she lost her balance.

Anthony quickly grabbed her hand to steady her and stop her from falling, but he fell down with her. Thud. They hit the hard shop-floor, Anthony on top of Mrs Lovett. Coincidentally, it was at that moment when the moody barber entered the shop. either of them had noticed. They both groaned in pain, but to the barber it sounded like they were groaning because of something else. They were completely oblivious to the fact that Sweeney was stood watching from the doorway. He cleared his throat. _Shit._ Mrs Lovett swallowed hard, as Anthony rolled off of her and quickly stood up.

"M-Mr Todd," Anthony stuttered, dusting himself down to distract himself from Todd's narrowed eyes, even though the shop floor had only just been cleaned.

"What were you doing?" He asked them, staring at Anthony, and then at Mrs Lovett. It almost looked as if Mr Todd was shocked, but angry at the same time which was quite strange, as he never usually showed any sort of emotion.

She looked down, realising that her dress had been hitched up to her waist in the fall. She patted it down, quickly. Along with Anthony, her cheeks were a burning shade of red.

"W-We fell," Anthony stuttered, staring at the barber. He didn't look too convinced.

"It didn't look like that to me," he growled, edging towards Anthony, his razor already in his hand.

"I-I swear, we fell," he said.

Mr Todd didn't know why he was so bothered. He felt anger, but he didn't know why. Was he jealous? No! Of course he wasn't jealous. She was just his land lady, for God's sake!

"It's not what you think we were doing," said Anthony, trembling.

Sweeney couldn't stop himself. He unflicked his razor, glaring at the sailor as dangerously as he could.

Anthony ran like hell, out of the door and down the street. Mrs Lovett slowly got to her feet, silently trying to get to her bedroom without Sweeney noticing.

"Where exactly are you going?" He asked her darkly, his eyes following her.

"To my bedroom..." she said, quietly.

"You can go to your bedroom, once you've explain to me what happened," he growled, walking closer to her.

"Nothing happened," she replied, trying to sound more confident.

"Mrs Lovett, he was on top of you and your.. your dress was up to your waist," he said, his mouth going slightly drier than usual as he said the last part.

"Yes, but nothing happened, love,"

"I saw it,"

She paused for a second.

"Why would you care, anyway? It's none of your business what we was doing," she said, speaking even more confidently, her eyebrows raised. He really had seemed angry at Anthony.

"Yes it is," he said, not looking at her now.

"How come?" She stared at him. He had started to look uncomfortable.

"Erm, because... He's way too young for you!" He said loudly, looking up and glaring at her.

"So?"

He started to grow annoyed, tightening his grip on his razor. Mrs Lovett kept her eyebrows raised.

"Where they going to have sex?" He thought to himself, still glaring at her. He knew that he shouldn't really care, but he did. He didn't like the thought of Mrs Lovett doing... that with Anthony. Doing that with anybody, really. He grew more annoyed- mainly at himself- and refused to answer her.

"What do you think we were doing?!" She asked him, starting to get annoyed at how he thought she even would sleep with Anthony.

"You know what," he muttered.

Mrs Lovett raised her eyebrows again.

"You thought that we were going to have sex?" She asked.

He didn't answer her.

"So, what is we were?" She asked.

They definitely hadn't just been about to have sex, but she was enjoying how angry he seemed to get over the idea of it.

"You can't just open your bloody legs for anyone!" He shouted, without thinking.

There was a long silence. He hadn't meant to say that.

She wondered if he had developed feelings for her. He seemed... jealous, maybe? She pushed the thought away, not wanting to get her hopes up.

"I don't open my legs for anyone," she said quietly, before going to her room.

* * *

**Aw, poor Sweeney, hahah. I hope you liked the first chapter.**

**Yes, another re-write. I apologise.**

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